


merry me?

by bluebellesie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Marriage Proposal, and then puts the box in bigger and bigger boxes, fyi susan they’re in love, lance does that thing where he like, merry late chrysler everyone, puts the ring in the smallest box, so it’s an even bigger surprise!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 10:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellesie/pseuds/bluebellesie
Summary: He hears a snicker, and he sends a glare at his boyfriend. “Lance, if I’m going to open this one and find another box...”Lance’s eyes grow comically wide and he goes silent. Keith sighs, turning back to the box. “This better be a jaw-dropping gift.”“It will be,” Lance murmurs. Keith looks at him, and he smiles, his eyes soft. “Trust me.”





	merry me?

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE WHO CELEBRATES IT AND MERRY WONDERFUL DAY TO THOSE THAT DON’T!!!!! take this pls

Christmas has countless opportunities for competitions. Who can frost the most cookies, who can string up the most Christmas lights, who can hang up the most ornaments, who can make the best snow angel, who can steal the most kisses under a mistletoe- the list goes on and on. For Lance and Keith, every year is a new challenge, a new opportunity to fall in love all over again as you have a food fight with cookie icing and a dash of sprinkles.

It’s fun. It’s entertaining. It’s exhilarating. It’s perfect for them.

They’ve now gotten into “who can get the most Christmas presents for the other”.

Keith is ashamed to say that he’s lost, twenty to twenty-five. And Lance is refusing to let him live it down, even though he still has two more presents to open. One of them turns out to be a pair of socks with “mullet” stitched on the side, and the other a new pair of earbuds. Red.

“You win this time,” Keith says as he crumbles up the wrapping paper. “I’ll strive for thirty next year.”

“Then I’ll strive for thirty-six,” Lance says, leaning in close to grin at him. He’s wearing a fuzzy blue sweater with the chemical formula for bismuth stitched in white on the front- Bi. A gift from Pidge, of course. “I love you, babe, but I’m remaining the champ and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? What if I’m throwing you off? What if I’m actually striving for forty and you fall short?” He smirks at him, mimicking him and leaning closer, too. “You won’t have the throne for much longer.”

“First of all, that’s against the rules, you can’t do that-“ Lance ignores Keith’s indignant scoff as he holds up a finger. “Second of all- you still have a present to open, so you’re the one that fell short.”

Keith opens his mouth to retort, but he stops and blinks at him. “Another present?”

Lance wiggles his eyebrows at him before leaning away, reaching behind the Christmas tree. They had both agreed on a small one, for anything bigger than the one they had wouldn’t fit in their apartment, which they’ve lived in together for a little over three years. It’s strange how fast the time has gone by yet still feels like it’s been a million years. Keith wouldn’t mind a million more.

Lance pulls out a medium-sized present, wrapped in purple-and-white striped wrapping paper with a red bow on top. “I saved the best for last,” he says, handing it to Keith before crossing his legs in anticipation. “I... I hope you like it.”

_I hope you like it?_ Keith gives him a strange look. Throughout the whole morning Lance has oozed nothing but confidence, handing him present after present with a cocky grin on his face, saying things like _You’ll love this one_ or _This one’ll be your favorite, trust me_. Never has he expressed any hesitance, any worry, yet here he is now, curled up, staring at the present as if it personally insulted him.

“Is it a puppy?” Keith asks, smiling at him, attempting to brighten his expression. He doesn’t like that expression. “A cat? We already have two, Lance.”

Instead of perking up like he usually would have, Lance just laughs awkwardly, looking away. “No, no, not a puppy. Not a cat, either.”

Okay. That was weird. Keith’s smile drops, and he sets the present down, gaining Lance’s attention. “Lance, you okay?”

Lance blinks at him before an easy smile crosses his face, it reaching his eyes, and Keith thinks, _there he is_. Lance reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m fine, babe,” he says, kissing Keith’s knuckles. “Now open it!”

“If you say so,” Keith chuckles, smiling softly as he pulls away. “If something pops out at me, though, just know I’m killing you.”

“Rude,” Lance scoffs, holding a hand to his chest in offense. Keith just gives him a look.

Finally turning his attention back to the present, Keith carefully tears it open, making sure not to make that big of a mess. Something about the contents of the box felt special, important, untouchable. The wrapping paper fell away to reveal a brown cardboard box, the sides decorated in little golden swirls. Holding his breath, he lifts the top off, peering inside to find....

Another wrapped box.

He hears a snicker, and he sends a glare at his boyfriend. “Lance, if I’m going to open this one and find _another_ box...”

Lance’s eyes grow comically wide and he goes silent. Keith sighs, turning back to the box. “This better be a jaw-dropping gift.”

“It will be,” Lance murmurs. Keith looks at him, and he smiles, his eyes soft. “Trust me.”

It was a struggle to turn away from Lance and back to the box, but Keith eventually manages to accomplish it. Pulling it out of the bigger box, he begins to unwrap it, once again being careful not to destroy too much of the work that went into it. It reveals another cardboard box, this time decorated in little hearts, and he smiles as he lifts off the top.

Another box.

“How many are there?” Keith asks in exasperation, pulling it out and discarding the box it was inside. Lance cackles, shaking his head.

“You’re only two boxes in and already you’re getting annoyed,” he says, laughing. “Babe, you’re impossible.”

“ _You’re_ impossible,” Keith retorts, but he’s laughing, too. “You’re the one putting me through this.”

“Just keep going!”

Keith unwraps the next box, the cardboard decorated in stars, and he’s not surprised when he opens it to find yet another, smaller box. He sighs, smiling when he hears Lance’s giggles, and pulls it out, setting the slightly bigger box aside.

“You’re really enjoying this, huh,” Keith says as he watches Lance laugh. “You get off to my pain.”

Lance wiggles his eyebrows. “Kinky.”

Keith throws wrapping paper at him and he falls backward dramatically, hand clutching his chest. “I’ve been murdered!”

“You will be soon enough,” Keith says, grinning, before turning back to the gift. It’s a lot smaller than it was before, small enough where he could just barely hold it in one hand. Unwrapping the next box, he pauses, finding no designs scribbled along the sides. Instead, he finds a sentence on top.

_Roses are red..._

Lance has gone quiet, and when Keith looks at him, he’s staring at the box, fiddling with the ends of his sweater sleeves. His expression is a mixture of excitement and full on terror.

“Relax, Lance,” Keith says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “There’s no need to look like you’re gonna bust a brain cell.”

Lance waves him off, smiling. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, just- keep going.”

Turning back to the present, Keith lifts off the cover. It reveals another wrapped box, this time in gold and white stripes.

“It’s black and blue,” Lance whispers, grinning when Keith glares at him.

“Don’t you dare.” Pulling the box out, he carefully unwraps it, glancing at Lance every once in awhile. Lance has gone quiet again, staring at the present, frantically bouncing his knee up and down.

The wrapping paper falls away to reveal another sentence.

_Violets are blue..._

“Quite the romantic, huh?” Keith jokes, lifting off the top and pulling the next box out. It’s a bright pink.

He looks at Lance to find him smirking. “Yes, babe, you should know this already.”

Keith raises an eyebrow and holds the gift up. “You should also know this is getting on my nerves.”

Lance snorts, then laughs, and he leans over to press a kiss against Keith’s lips. Keith closes his eyes, but Lance pulls away before he can return it. _Get back here, damnit._

He opens his eyes to find Lance grinning softly at him, expression warm. “Keep going, mullet. You’re almost there.”

“Can we do this instead?” Keith asks, leaning in again, but Lance jerks back and puts a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Nah-ah-ah,” Lance sings, wagging a finger in the air. “Present first. Kiss after.”

Keith pouts at him before turning back to the present, starting to unwrap it. “Fine.”

Pulling the wrapping paper away, Keith stills when he reads the next sentence.

_I know you love me..._

“I do,” he murmurs, brushing a finger over the words. Lance makes a strange noise, and when Keith looks at him, he has a hand over his mouth. “Lance?”

“Keep going,” Lance squeaks.

Feeling on edge himself now, Keith opens the box, finding yet another one inside. The wrapping paper is a shiny red with blue stripes, and when he takes it out, he hears something slide inside.

Looking at Lance, he swallows. “Last one?”

Another strange noise comes from Lance’s throat, and he gives a quick nod. Taking a deep breath, Keith turns to the box and begins unwrapping it, the size almost able to fit snugly in his palm. When the paper falls away, he reads the sentence on the cover.

_I hope you love this, too._

He hears Lance shifting, but he doesn’t look at him as he lifts the cover off. Inside, there’s a tiny, black jewelry box, the kind to hold a necklace or ring. Frowning, he takes it out, setting the cardboard box aside, and he’s about to open it when a tan hand cups his own, stopping him.

“Slow down, samurai,” Lance whispers. He takes the jewelry box from Keith’s hands, his own shaking, and crawls forward until he’s kneeling in front of him, holding the jewelry box out.

It hits Keith then. His eyes widen, and he sucks in a sharp breath, hands flying up to grasp the front of his sweater. His heart skips a beat, and he suddenly feels warm all over.

The gift. The box. The _jewelry_ box. Lance, kneeling, looking as if he were about to throw up.

It all clicks into place, and Keith forgets to breathe.

Lance licks his lips nervously before he opens the box. Inside, sitting all dainty on a little white cushion, is a smooth, silver band, shining in the soft lighting of the Christmas tree. Keith’s vision tunnels, heart in his throat, and he almost misses Lance’s next words.

“Keith,” Lance says, voice quivering, “will you marry me?”

_Will you marry me?_

“Oh,” Keith breathes, blinking frantically. His eyes feel wet, and he rubs at them, then rubs at them again when the feeling comes back. He laughs, his smile watery, and _why can’t he stop shaking?_ “Oh my god, _Lance_...”

The ring is still there, hovering in front of him, and he wants to cry, because _fuck, Lance wants to marry him._

Lance, with the wide smiles and sparkling eyes and hugs that he throws his whole being into. Lance, whose laugh could put a smile on anyone’s face and could brighten anyone’s mood just by walking into the room. Lance, who keeps every birthday card he’s ever been given and keeps them tucked away in boxes in the back of his closet, who knits scarves and sweaters for his friends in the winter, who loves the warm summer skies but favors the soft downpour of rain. Lance, who sings along to the radio and dances on the floor in socked feet, who leaves little “I love you” notes throughout the apartment for Keith to find, who kisses him every morning when they wake up and every night before they go to sleep. Lance, who asked him to be his boyfriend the same day Keith had been planning to ask the same thing, who brushes his hair when it gets too tangly and hugs him when he wakes up from a nightmare. Lance, who went out to buy a ring and wants to _marry him._

“Yes,” he whispers, and then again, louder, “Yes, Lance, _yes_.”

Lance’s hand is shaking, and he lets out a shuddering breath, nearing on a relieved laugh. “Yes? You’ll- you’ll marry me?”

“Yes,” Keith says again, and he feels like a robot but it’s the only thing his brain has the capabilities of responding with right now. “Yes, yes, Lance, I’ll marry you.”

“You- you said yes.” Lance laughs again, and he almost chokes, and when Keith manages to tear his gaze away from the ring, he finds him with red rimmed eyes and flushed cheeks. “Oh my god, you said yes.”

“Yes,” Keith whispers, and he’s smiling so hard his face hurts, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

Fumbling with the ring, Lance grabs his left hand, and the feeling of the ring sliding down around his finger, the look of it shining against his skin, it’s placement there so very perfect, makes him start to cry.

“Keith? Keith, you- stop- stop crying, you’re gonna make me cry-“ Keith looks up, but Lance is already crying, they’re both crying, and he thinks, _god, we’re a mess._

“C’mere,” he chokes out, holding out his arms. Lance sniffles and crawls to him, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and burying his face into the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” Lance whispers, and even though Keith has heard those words at least a million times already, they still send his heart into a frenzy.

He tightens his grip around Lance’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He wonders if Lance can tell how fast his heart is beating. “I love you, too.”

He feels Lance smile into his skin, releasing an airy giggle. “Keith... babe... we’re fiancés.” He giggles again. “ _Oh my god, they were fiancés_.”

Keith laughs. “Yeah, we’re-“ he pulls away, cupping Lance’s cheeks, feeling a wide, goofy grin taking over his face. “We’re really-“

When Lance kisses him, it’s like the first time all over again. His heart goes wild, his toes curl, and he digs his fingers into Lance’s hair and kisses him back with everything he has. He’s lost, he’s been lost for nearly five years, lost in the very existence of Lance McClain.

Lost at sea with no desire to find land.

“You win at Christmas gifts,” Keith whispers against his lips, and Lance grins, and then they’re kissing again, and Keith doesn’t know when they’ll stop. He doesn’t want them to stop.

The Christmas tree lights cover them in a soothing glow, the snow falling peacefully outside the window, and it’s then that Keith realizes the life he is going to have.

A life with Lance. A life _married_ to Lance.

He smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> merry crisis happ new year


End file.
